After Finding a Lump, I Got Breast Cancer at 24 | Lucy's Triple Negative Breast Cancer Story
Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2026 4:52 pm
Hearing the words breast cancer was an enormous shock, especially having only just turned 24. I remember my surgeon gently saying that cancer had been found in the biopsy cells. The first thing I asked my mom was whether I was going to lose my hair, followed immediately by the fear that I might die. We both burst into tears as the reality began to sink in.
I had recently turned 25 and was living in Worcester after completing my undergraduate degree in English Literature at the University of Worcester. I loved the city so much that I stayed to complete my master’s degree, graduating just one month after my diagnosis. Before cancer, my life was filled with simple joys—exploring new places, going on walks, traveling, and spending time adventuring with my boyfriend.
My family already had experience with breast cancer. My mom was diagnosed for the second time in 2019, which is when she discovered she carried the BRCA1 gene mutation. Knowing the gene carries a 50% inheritance risk, I chose to be tested immediately. In December 2020, I had a blood test, and in January 2021, I learned that I had inherited the BRCA1 gene. Because I was only 23 at the time, routine screening had not yet begun. I was advised to remain aware of changes in my body, perform monthly checks, adjust contraception, and maintain a healthy lifestyle until formal monitoring started at age 25.
Around mid-2021, I began noticing a lump that would appear and disappear. I assumed it might be related to increased gym activity or weightlifting. After several months, the lump lingered longer than usual. When my boyfriend felt it, he encouraged me to speak to my mom and see a doctor. Given my high-risk status, I contacted my GP immediately and emphasized that I carried the BRCA1 mutation. Although initial examinations suggested fibrous tissue rather than cancer, I was referred to a breast clinic for further investigation as a precaution.
At the hospital, both the nurse and ultrasound specialist believed the lump appeared non-cancerous. The scan was rated slightly abnormal but not highly concerning. However, because of my genetic risk, they decided to perform a biopsy. That decision ultimately saved my life. A few days after my 24th birthday, I received a call asking me to return to meet the surgeon instead of the nurse, which immediately raised concern. Deep down, I sensed the outcome before hearing the confirmation.
Three days after turning 24, I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to COVID restrictions, visitors were limited, but my mom was allowed to attend the appointment. After hearing the diagnosis, my dad was brought in from the car park so we could face the moment together as a family. Later, when I saw my boyfriend, I collapsed into his arms, overwhelmed with fear and exhaustion, unable to sleep that night.
Initially, my biggest fear—aside from survival—was losing my hair, something I had finally grown to love after years of effort. Soon after, I learned that surgery would likely involve a mastectomy or even a double mastectomy. Beyond the physical impact, I struggled with the emotional loss connected to femininity and future motherhood, particularly the realization that breastfeeding might no longer be possible. It felt as though important parts of my identity were being taken away.
My mother’s earlier experience unexpectedly became a source of strength. Having undergone a double mastectomy herself, she understood every stage of treatment. We followed nearly identical treatment plans, including the same chemotherapy regimen, although I also underwent fertility preservation before treatment began. Having someone so close who truly understood the physical and emotional challenges made an enormous difference during difficult moments.
Following diagnosis, everything moved quickly. Additional scans confirmed cancer had spread to some lymph nodes under my arm but had not spread elsewhere in my body. I underwent MRI scans, mammograms, CT scans, and further biopsies. Because of my age, I was supported by the Teenage Cancer Trust, which provided guidance on emotional care, financial support, and practical resources such as wigs through organizations like the Little Princess Trust. While reassuring, the sudden influx of information and support calls felt overwhelming so soon after diagnosis.
Within weeks, appointments filled every day—testing, fertility preservation, and treatment planning. From diagnosis in October to starting chemotherapy in December, there was rarely a moment without medical activity. Before treatment began, my surgeon encouraged me to enjoy life whenever possible, knowing the year ahead would be extremely challenging. I managed to attend a West End show in London and spend time with loved ones, fitting in meaningful experiences before treatment changed daily life.
Those moments were emotional, knowing normal routines would soon pause, but they became memories that helped carry me through one of the toughest periods of my life.
I had recently turned 25 and was living in Worcester after completing my undergraduate degree in English Literature at the University of Worcester. I loved the city so much that I stayed to complete my master’s degree, graduating just one month after my diagnosis. Before cancer, my life was filled with simple joys—exploring new places, going on walks, traveling, and spending time adventuring with my boyfriend.
My family already had experience with breast cancer. My mom was diagnosed for the second time in 2019, which is when she discovered she carried the BRCA1 gene mutation. Knowing the gene carries a 50% inheritance risk, I chose to be tested immediately. In December 2020, I had a blood test, and in January 2021, I learned that I had inherited the BRCA1 gene. Because I was only 23 at the time, routine screening had not yet begun. I was advised to remain aware of changes in my body, perform monthly checks, adjust contraception, and maintain a healthy lifestyle until formal monitoring started at age 25.
Around mid-2021, I began noticing a lump that would appear and disappear. I assumed it might be related to increased gym activity or weightlifting. After several months, the lump lingered longer than usual. When my boyfriend felt it, he encouraged me to speak to my mom and see a doctor. Given my high-risk status, I contacted my GP immediately and emphasized that I carried the BRCA1 mutation. Although initial examinations suggested fibrous tissue rather than cancer, I was referred to a breast clinic for further investigation as a precaution.
At the hospital, both the nurse and ultrasound specialist believed the lump appeared non-cancerous. The scan was rated slightly abnormal but not highly concerning. However, because of my genetic risk, they decided to perform a biopsy. That decision ultimately saved my life. A few days after my 24th birthday, I received a call asking me to return to meet the surgeon instead of the nurse, which immediately raised concern. Deep down, I sensed the outcome before hearing the confirmation.
Three days after turning 24, I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to COVID restrictions, visitors were limited, but my mom was allowed to attend the appointment. After hearing the diagnosis, my dad was brought in from the car park so we could face the moment together as a family. Later, when I saw my boyfriend, I collapsed into his arms, overwhelmed with fear and exhaustion, unable to sleep that night.
Initially, my biggest fear—aside from survival—was losing my hair, something I had finally grown to love after years of effort. Soon after, I learned that surgery would likely involve a mastectomy or even a double mastectomy. Beyond the physical impact, I struggled with the emotional loss connected to femininity and future motherhood, particularly the realization that breastfeeding might no longer be possible. It felt as though important parts of my identity were being taken away.
My mother’s earlier experience unexpectedly became a source of strength. Having undergone a double mastectomy herself, she understood every stage of treatment. We followed nearly identical treatment plans, including the same chemotherapy regimen, although I also underwent fertility preservation before treatment began. Having someone so close who truly understood the physical and emotional challenges made an enormous difference during difficult moments.
Following diagnosis, everything moved quickly. Additional scans confirmed cancer had spread to some lymph nodes under my arm but had not spread elsewhere in my body. I underwent MRI scans, mammograms, CT scans, and further biopsies. Because of my age, I was supported by the Teenage Cancer Trust, which provided guidance on emotional care, financial support, and practical resources such as wigs through organizations like the Little Princess Trust. While reassuring, the sudden influx of information and support calls felt overwhelming so soon after diagnosis.
Within weeks, appointments filled every day—testing, fertility preservation, and treatment planning. From diagnosis in October to starting chemotherapy in December, there was rarely a moment without medical activity. Before treatment began, my surgeon encouraged me to enjoy life whenever possible, knowing the year ahead would be extremely challenging. I managed to attend a West End show in London and spend time with loved ones, fitting in meaningful experiences before treatment changed daily life.
Those moments were emotional, knowing normal routines would soon pause, but they became memories that helped carry me through one of the toughest periods of my life.